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silverlightqueen · 4 years

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part sixteen - disguise

thunderstorm🌩 - (mafia!jk x dancer!yn, smau, - fluff, crack, angst, potential smut)

rating: pg | warnings: mention of murder

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a/n: another written part guys !! lmk what y’all think of this part and hmu if you wanna be on the taglist. stay safe and be careful in these uncertain and scary times, and my ask box is always open if any of you need someone to talk to ! x

PSA: ASK MY MUSE IS NOW OPEN FOR ALL OF MY STORIES TO ENTERTAIN ME DURING THIS LOCKDOWN/QUARANTINE/SELF-ISOLATION THING (THAT ALL OF YOU SHOULD BE DOING, STAY IN YOUR MOTHERFUCKING HOUSES) SO ASK MY MUSES SOME QUESTIONS PLEASE I’M BEGGING Y’ALL

ask my muse

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‘Now who’s wearing a stupid disguise?’ he mutters as he holds the door open for me, and I shush him, looking around quickly before ducking through the door into the dingy reception again. ‘Why… why are you sneaking around? Shouldn’t you be at home, resting?’ Jungkook says, and I sigh. ‘Can we go upstairs?’ I ask, and he nods, looking confused. ‘Sure,’ he says, both of us heading over to the lift. We go up in silence, and my stomach turns the entire time. When we reach the 21st floor, I take Rosé’s phone out of my pocket and hold it up to him with a finger over my lips, and he raises an eyebrow. I mouth the words, ‘have you got a signal blocker box?’ and he nods, leading me over to his desk. He roots around the drawers for a second, putting both his and Rosé’s phones into the box, sealing it. I take the box from it and move it a few desks away, just for good measure.

‘What’s all the secrecy for? Are you paranoid someone’s listening in on you?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘You don’t the half of it. This is serious, okay? So prepare yourself for what I’m about to tell you. Because you might get angry at me, but hear me out and let me explain the full story before you speak,’ I say, nearly all in one breath, and he looks even more confused now, raising an eyebrow. ‘Is this a really elaborate joke you’ve planned? Because I know what you’re like and I swear to god, y/n, I will not b-’ ‘I’m not kidding, JK. I wouldn’t leave the house two days after being shot for a joke,’ I cut him off, and I think he senses the seriousness and fear in my voice, because he nods, taking a seat, and I perch on the desk beside him, taking my mask and bucket hat off. I take a deep breath, looking out of the window to calm myself. The night sky looks beautiful, a deep velvet blue twinkling with bright stars, and when I look back at Jungkook, I can see the same stars in his eyes, the eyes that are trained on me. He’s leaning back in his chair, legs slightly spread, and his arms are folded across his chest, fluffy hair falling down over his forehead. He’s dressed in all black, loose enough to be comfortable but form-fitting enough to show me the perfect proportions of his body. He really is beautiful, even in such low light. I try to stop the butterflies in my stomach, knowing there’re more important matters at hand.

‘I’m part of YG’s gang,’ I blurt out, and he continues just staring at me for a moment, before a frown takes over his beautiful features. ‘That’s not funny, y/n. How the hell do you know who YG is?’ he asks, and I sigh. ‘He’s my boss. I’m being serious, JK. I’m part of his gang,’ I say tiredly, and Jungkook rises out of his chair, pacing. ‘No, y/n, I swear to god, this isn’t funny, and I will not be happy if you’re telling me the truth,’ he says, voice shaking, and I feel tears beginning to collect in my eyes. ‘I’m telling you the truth, I promise,’ I whisper, and he freezes, looking at me with wild eyes. ‘Show me your tattoo,’ he says, and I nod, getting up carefully. I lift up the side of my top and pull my bra out of the way, showing him the black ink in the shape of a Y. ‘Everyone else has it on their forearm, but I had to have it somewhere where no one would see it in dance auditions,’ I explain shakily, and he stares at the tattoo, as though checking if it’s going to disappear before his eyes.

‘y/n, this… this changes everything. That means…’ he trails off, eyes locked with mine in an intense gaze. ‘I know you’re our rivals,’ I confirm, and he turns away from me with a groan, head in his hands, and my heart hurts. ‘You knew all along,’ he whispers, before whirling back to look at me, rage in his face. ‘You knew all along,’ he repeats, tone accusatory, and I shake my head. ‘I swear, I didn’t know, JK. I promise,’ I say, able to hear the desperation in my own voice, and he looks torn. ‘Explain the full story,’ he says in a strangled voice, sitting back down. His disposition is completely different compared to how relaxed he was a few moments ago, tension in his entire body as he leans forward, elbows on his knees and head resting in his hands.

‘When I was 16, I decided I wanted to pursue dance. My parents were completely against it, my whole family was. But my friends, they were so supportive. The girls, but also some other friends that I had. They were a little older, and no one knew that I was friends with them, not even the girls – we weren’t that close back then. They were a little sketchy, I guess, but they looked after me. When they found out that I wanted to move into the city to join a dance school, they urged me to do so, but we all knew I wouldn’t be able to afford it without my parents’ help, and they never would’ve helped.

But they knew a guy. They worked for him, and they told me he’d be able to give me a job that would pay really well. So I met this guy, who turned out to be YG. We had a meeting at this restaurant, the nicest restaurant I’d ever been to, and I instantly felt myself gravitate to him. He was kind, and funny, and he listened to me, when no adult ever had. Yes, he was double my age, but we got along. He was like a big brother to me. By the end of our meeting, he’d decided he wanted to offer me a job, and all the training alongside it, and it would pay enough for me to go to the dance school, live in the city, with plenty left over. I took the job, because I was so desperate to follow my dreams, to be a dancer. I told everyone I’d been offered a scholarship by the National School of Dance, who would pay for my accommodation, my education, and then some for living costs. In reality, I ended up living in YG’s own house – it was huge, loads of us lived there – and he was the one who was paying for school.

We started training as soon as I moved into the house, so I was training and dancing at the same time. But I loved it – both the dancing and the training. After a few weeks of intensive training with YG himself – not many people get that privilege – I was his little killing machine. Over the years, I worked my way up the gang, and worked my way up the class at school. Because the training was helping with dance, and the dancing was helping with… my abilities to kill. And YG and I grew closer and closer. When I turned 18, he bought me my own car and my own apartment, even though I spent all my time at his house anyway. I loved it, being in that gang. I even developed my own little killing technique – seduction, to get them alone, and then I’d either slit their throat, choke them, break their neck, blow their brains out. I was killing all these people, hundreds, maybe even thousands, and I felt no remorse, because they were bad people, and I like to do the right thing. Being so young had allowed him to warp my mind so much so that I didn’t see that it was all so wrong. I was losing contact with everyone at home, and becoming more and more integrated into the gang. I was the youngest, and one of the few girls, so they all adored me. It was like one big family. But I don’t need to tell you that, you know what it’s like.

When I was around 19, Jisoo moved into the city, and asked to visit me. We met up, and she told me that the other four were planning to move to the city too, and they were going to buy an apartment together, and would I want to join them. I refused, but YG told me to move in with them, to maintain some kind of relationships outside of the gang. He might be a terrible person, but he cared about me, always looked out for me and wanted what was best for me. So I moved in with them, and I had to act like I was broke, because they wouldn’t understand where all my money was coming from. I also told them I was working part time as a maid, which explained away all the time I was out of the house when I wasn’t at school.

Around the same time as me moving in with the girls, you guys moved into the city. And he hated it. Every time I saw him, he’d just be ranting about Solji – it was all he ever talked about. It was eating him up. And that was reflected in the gang. Suddenly, we weren’t these vigilantes that were killing bad people anymore. We were just as bad as all of the others. We weren’t protecting the streets; we were the one the streets needed protecting from. And the longer it went on, the more and more I hated it. I stopped enjoying the work I was doing for him. So I asked for eight months off, to focus on dance, and he was reluctant at first. I practically begged him, said I’d give up my car, and told him he could pause my pay, and he eventually agreed. That was around five months ago.

I told the girls that the family I was working for were moving abroad and, not long after, a job opened up at Lisa’s shop. She offered it to me, and it was perfect. Then I was added to your guys group chat, and I promise you, I didn’t know who you were. I only found out the other day when I met Solji, and you guys explained the story of how you became boss. Obviously, having taken time off, I didn’t know that leadership had changed, so that’s why I didn’t recognise your name. When I found out, I texted YG and asked him if he was behind me being added to group chat, and he said he was. And then he told me that he never intended to let me take eight months off, and thought he’d use me to bring you guys down from the inside. I swear, JK, I never knew.’

He listens to my explanation, not reacting to anything, just listening, and once I finish, he sits back in his chair, sighing. ‘I believe you,’ he says, and I feel hope burst in my chest. ‘Really?’ I ask, and he nods gravely. ‘I do. But I have a few questions. How on earth did he manage to get your number added to the group chat?’ he asks, and I shrug. ‘I have no idea. Who was it you were supposed to add?’ ‘Chou Tzuyu. She was our new recruit and she moved in with us, so I told Tae to add her into the group chat. When we realised that it was the wrong number, we asked Tzuyu what her actual number was, and it was completely different to yours. And then she told us she never even gave us her phone number, so I literally have no idea where yours came from,’ he explains, and I frown. ‘That’s really weird. I don’t know how he managed to pull that off,’ I say, trying to rack my brains, wondering how he could’ve possibly had me added.

‘Anyway. Why were you shot? Lisa told me it was a robbery, but then when I showed up to the hospital and YG’s men were outside of your room, I texted him-’ ‘You have his number?’ I demand, and he nods frustratedly. ‘That’s not important. Anyway, I texted him, and he made out like he was planning to kill you,’ he says, and my eyes widen. ‘What? Why?’ ‘Because his men saw me picking you up from the club and assumed you were ‘my weakness’, or whatever, something like that,’ he says, drawing quote marks with his fingers, ‘and that I’d better watch my back, and watch yours too. I guess it was just a ploy to panic me.’ ‘Yeah, it was. He’s good at manipulating people, and playing mind games. But it was this lady whose husband I killed that shot me. She recognised me as his killer,’ I explain, and he nods, completely unfazed by the mention of me murdering someone. He’s used to it, I guess.

‘So, hang on. Was Dalgom really ill, or was that just a distraction so Jennie could pick you up?’ he asks, and I laugh embarrassedly, trying to avoid his irritated glare. ‘Um, yeah. It was a distraction. Sorry,’ I say sheepishly, and he rolls his eyes. ‘I was genuinely worried about him. Jennie and Jisoo even posted about him on their instantgrams!’ he exclaims, and I stifle a laugh. ‘Instagram. Not instantgram,’ I correct, and he rolls his eyes again. ‘Same thing. And don’t call me a boomer, please, we’re practically the same age,’ he says, eyes twinkling with laughter, and I giggle behind my hand. Giggle? Since when do I giggle? ‘Do the girls still not know you’re part of a gang?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘No, and they can’t. I don’t want to put them in danger. And YG has my phone bugged, meaning he’s probably got the apartment bugged too, somehow. Which is why I couldn’t text you anything. And he’s having me followed, which is why I came in disguise. Jennie and Jisoo wear this kind of stuff all the time, and I never do. He cannot find out I’ve met with you, or he’ll kill me. Or he’ll kill one of the girls,’ I say, shuddering at the thought, and he nods gravely.

‘What does he want you to do then? Obviously there’s a reason you’re still on the group chat acting like everything’s normal,’ he says, and I sigh, nervous about telling him this part. ‘He… wants me to take you guys down. For good. He wants you all dead, and he wants me to be the one that does it,’ I say tiredly, and JK shakes his head disgustedly. ‘He’s sick, absolutely sick in the head. Using your emotions against you, making you form relationships with people before forcing you to kill them,’ he spits, and I’m surprised at how passionate he sounds. ‘I know. But… I’m scared, JK. Really scared,’ I say, feeling tears come to my eyes at how vulnerable and young I sound. He looks up at me with wide eyes, and he shakes his head. ‘No, y/n, you don’t need to be scared,’ he says softly, getting up from his seat, and I feel a tear begin to fall down my face. ‘But I am. I don’t care about him killing me, I couldn’t care less. But he’s threatened to kill the girls if I don’t kill you guys, and he said he’ll kill you all anyway. I don’t want to lose them, and I don’t want to lose any of you, but I don’t understand what I’m supposed to do,’ I sob, tears now running down my face, JK watching and listening to me intently as I speak.

And then he takes me by surprise. He takes a step closer to me and wraps his arms around me, one hand coming to rest on the back of my head, and I cry even harder, burying my face into his chest. He strokes my hair as I cry, holding me in a tight and comforting grip, the smell of his flooding my senses (a clean laundry smell mixed with a subtle fragrance – something fruity and floral, but soft and sweet). I can feel the hard contours of his body against me and despite him having muscles for days, he’s so soft and warm. He makes me feel safe. Once I’ve calmed down, I move away from him and he releases his grip on me. He raises a hand and gently wipes the tears from my face, a small smile on his face. And then I watch as his eyes flit to my lips. My heart pounds as he looks back up to meet my eyes, and my stomach flips at the smirk he gives me. I gulp, and he notices it, his smirk growing even wider, before his face moves slightly closer to mine.

He’s going to kiss me. My eyes flutter shut. And I’m going to let him.

There’s moment when I think of all the stupid things he’s said on the group chat. How mean he was at the start. How much of a boomer he was (and still is). How he eventually warmed to me, became so protective of me. How much he must care for me. And how much I care for him.

I feel his lips brush against mine before he pulls away, obviously checking if I’m okay with this and, without opening my eyes, I lean towards him. He chuckles, pressing his lips to mine, more forcefully this time, and it’s like fireworks are exploding behind my eyes, my mind numbing and my body tingling at the feeling of him kissing me.

He pulls away before the kiss becomes heated, both of us blinking as though we’ve just woken up, and a small smile appears on his face. ‘There’ll be plenty of time for that after we follow my plan,’ he says, and my heart jumps at him saying he’d kiss me again. ‘You have a plan?’ I ask, and he scoffs, grinning. ‘Of course I have a plan. There’s no need for you to be scared, because I won’t let him lay a finger on me, on any of my staff, on any of the girls, and certainly not on you,’ he says, my heart fluttering at how… serious and commanding he sounds. ‘What are you going to do?’ I ask, and he grins even wider. ‘We, my dear,’ he says, his eyes twinkling as he speaks, ‘are going to kill YG.’

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